


Among Bedsheets and Splinters

by Iavalir



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iavalir/pseuds/Iavalir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A heroic deed by Bofur is finally rewarded many years later, much to Bofur and Kíli’s surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hobbit_kink. Request was: “During their escape from Erebor Bofur did something Superheroic and Brave and saved Thorin's life. Thorin then, as it was an ancient Dwarf custom, promised him his offspring's hand in marriage. He never had any children and Fili is his heir, which leaves Kili. Kili had no idea and Bofur forgot, so when Thorin tells them they are both a bit shocked.”

Smoke from the numerous dwarf-pipes lingered in the air, and the hobbit hole was filled with laughter from the dwarves as they broke into conversations in their small groups. Bofur sat away from the crowd and near the archway leading to the hall. Here was the same place he had been when Bilbo fainted. He had felt bad for being the cause of the poor hobbit’s distress, but it seemed Bilbo was fine for now. And Bofur had long forgotten his regret as he leaned back on his chair, pipe in hand, and amused himself with memories of an earlier time that night. 

“The poor laddie could not believe that not a single one of his plates and cups had been chipped at the very least!” Bofur thought with a grin. “He had looked under the tables and rugs as though it was all some trickery by us dwarves and he would find some remnants of a former cup or bowl! Ai, if only there was a way to replay that moment!” 

“Bofur.” 

Shaken out of his reverie, Bofur sat straight and turned to the source of the voice. Spotting Thorin by the archway he gave a bow. Thorin spoke nothing else, but he motioned for him to follow. He pointed to the hall leading towards the bathroom, and as Bofur made his way he heard Thorin call out for Kíli his nephew. 

“What may we do for you?” Bofur asked happily. 

He gave a polite nod to Kíli, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet. The night’s events had pumped him up; the looming adventure was an event he was really looking forward to. But merry though Kíli was, Thorin remained serious as he addressed Bofur. 

“I called you to discuss the promise I had made to you for your deeds at Erebor during Smaug’s attack,” Thorin said. 

“Ay, you need not do this,” Bofur laughed with a shrug. “I was simply around that day for business matters. I’m merely miner and toymaker on the side.” 

“A mere miner who selflessly protected the line of Durin,” Thorin said. “And for this you must be awarded. It is our custom, as you well know.” Bofur nodded his agreement solemnly. “And as such I took great time considering my options, for I do not have any children of my own. I cannot offer you Fíli’s hand for he would be my heir after my passing.” 

It appeared Kíli had been half-listening this entire time. At the sound of his brother’s name, Kíli turned his full attention to them, beaming. Bofur wondered how much the dwarf had to drink this evening, but he kept his thoughts to himself for this wasn’t the time to joke around. 

“Fíli has a ladyfriend back in the Blue Mountains!” Kíli blurted out happily. “And a most intricately does she braid her beard! Her mustache too matches Fíli’s!” 

Thorin hushed him, and Bofur chuckled before stopping himself short by plopping the mouthpiece of his pipe back between his lips. Thorin turned back to Bofur. 

“And since I cannot offer you Fíli’s hand,” Thorin continued, slightly irate, “I have Kíli to offer.” 

Bofur inhaled sharply from his pipe and spluttered but spoke nothing. Neither spoke for the longest while. Bofur’s eyes went from Kíli to Thorin and back. Kíli was staring at his uncle, and his grin faded into utter confusion. “Excuse me?” 

“Well, this is awkward,” Bofur said, chuckling softly.

* * *

Kíli, jaw open, stared at his uncle. Thorin turned him, ignoring the rudeness in his voice from his earlier comment. Thorin loved Kíli too much to ever be angry at him for long. “As per the customs of the dwarves you are to wed Master Bofur for the honorable deeds he has done during the attack on Erebor.”

“Marriage?” Kíli said disbelievingly. 

“It is not your decision,” Thorin said. “I owe Bofur for saving my life. He is a good dwarf, and I daresay you would enjoy each other’s company from what I know about both of you. Give me your hand.” 

With reluctance Kíli followed orders. Bofur, who Kíli thought had witnessed a marriage union before (and he had, for his brother Bombur), knew what to expect. He seemed like he wanted to give Kíli a smile in comfort, but Kíli would not even meet Bofur’s eyes. But he was neither angry nor embarrassed; he was simply too dazed at the sudden turn of events, and he hoped Bofur understood that. 

Thorin spoke in the harsh dwarven tongue the oath which would declare them bonded. Bofur focused on the words, though Kíli was certain he wished Bombur and Bifur at least would witness as they had done for Bombur’s wedding. But dwarven unions, as was everything else in their culture, were seldom a public affair even for the closest families. Before he knew it, Bofur and Kíli were declared wed to each other. When Thorin ceased speaking, Kíli looked up, his expression unreadable. 

“You are vowed to one another now,” Thorin told them, “but this current bond is only a promise. This bond will be declared a marriage upon the first physical union.”

Kíli’s eyes widened for a moment before he forced his expression back into one unreadable, but Bofur was certain the flush across his face was no longer from the alcohol. 

“There is nothing else for me to add,” Thorin said. He gave a bow to Bofur. “I thank you again for your deeds, as I am also thankful for your coming on this journey. Kíli, I will give you the wedding-token to give to your husband at a later time.” 

Kíli nodded but said nothing until Thorin was well out of earshot. Bofur and Kíli turned to each other, both unable to find any proper words to speak at this moment. 

“Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it, laddie?” Bofur said, hoping the lightness in his tone would comfort Kíli. “And just like that, we are wed - or engaged, rather.” They continued to stare at each other in silence until laughter finally surfaced for them both. Feeling like he had accomplished something, Bofur added, “We need not, uh, have a _physical union_ until you are ready. I still need to give you my wedding-token, and it is generally considered proper to do that before any adventures are to be had in the bedroom.” 

Kíli stopped laughing then, and that was when they became aware that they were still holding hands. They let go, both pretending they hadn’t noticed this little fact, and another strained silence followed. Kíli braved a peek up at Bofur. 

“I - I think Thorin is asking for us all to sing,” Bofur said, and without another word he left to find Thorin. 

Kíli sought out his brother and told the entire story in a hush lest the others heard. Fíli could barely get a word out for they were required for the song. The humming from the dwarves drew them to a room with a warm fireplace. Kíli stood where he could study his soon-to-be husband. Bofur’s mind was far away, captured in Thorin’s song. His eyes shown with memories of time passed and a passion for their journey, though he was not originally from Erebor. Yet the sight gave Kíli a strange power, and he joined in with the song. 

It was only towards the end of the song that Bofur finally noticed Kíli again, and he gave him a great smile that stretched from ear to ear, and Kíli felt something stir inside him. Amidst the other dwarves and the pipe-smoke and the dimness lit only by the firelight, Kíli shyly smiled back. 

Kíli thought nothing more of it as the discussion of sleeping arrangements was soon brought up. There was a hustle and bustle, at times mingled with Bilbo’s needless panicking over where the dwarves could sleep. In the end Kíli was to sleep on the sofa, and right below him on the floor (on Thorin’s orders, he presumed) Bofur settled. He offered Bofur to switch out of respect for the older dwarf, but Bofur refused with another one of his damned sweet smiles, bidding Kíli a good night full of wondrous dreams before tucking in under the blankets and falling straight asleep. 

Kíli tried to sleep, but the evening’s turn of events kept him wide awake. Never did he think that he would find himself vowed to another, here inside a warm hobbit hole. Never did he think he would ever wed, for the thought of love or marriage was not a subject matter he cared anything for. But here he was, now vowed while his own elder brother was still in courting of fair Fann back in the Blue Mountain. 

He stretched his neck out, studying the sleeping Bofur below him. Even in slumber his lips were curled into a most beautiful smile that he found contagious. 

“This is the face of my husband,” he thought, amusing himself. Then the thought of their eventually union came to his mind, and with a bit of an shudder he buried himself back under the blanket, willing himself to sleep. 

 

Kíli stuck by his brother for most of the first day’s journey, though for what exact reason he could not explain. It was steadily dawning on him the reality of the previous evening. He eyed Bofur on occasion, who did not seem as bothered as he was, but it wasn’t very apparent. As they made their way out of the Shire, Kíli and Fíli rode in the back for a chance to talk. Bofur was ahead, and Kíli could not keep his eyes off him as his mind reeled wildly, almost comically, with the full realization of last night. 

“I am bonded to him,” he thought. “He is my husband. I have a husband. I am _his_ husband. We must sleep in the same bed, see each other nude. We must become intimate with each other, and whenever the other desires it. We must consummate this marriage during this journey - we must consummate - by Mahal!” He simply never contemplated on the issue of his own sexuality, for never did he have any inkling for such desires. Yet the thought made him light-headed and overwhelmed. He was simply not prepared to face this, and to avoid thinking about it any further he quickly turned to his brother. 

“I didn’t think I would be wed to someone on this journey,” he said. 

“It happens sometimes,” Fíli replied. “Dwarves will wed at any time, although normally they make a promise to wed at the end of their journey.” 

“Is that the promise you made with Fann?” Kíli asked, grinning, hoping this was the distraction he needed. 

Fíli grinned back, then silence followed. 

The effect wore off Kíli sooner than he would have liked as he found himself suddenly jealous of Fíli’s luck. “I would we promised for a later time. I barely know him.” 

Fíli sighed. “Thorin’s promise was long overdue. He needed to find someone, and he considered his options carefully.” Then after falling into silence for a few moments, he added, “I rather like the idea of being related to that folk. You understand that Bombur is part of our family now too, right?” 

And the brothers shared a laughed, thinking of how much fun they had with Bombur the evening before at supper. This, to Kíli’s relief, was the distraction he needed. It settled his mind for the time being, allowing him to silently observe Bofur with each opportunity that he had. They had a chance to speak very little, and when Kíli thought they had a chance he would instead see Bofur busying himself with a small block of wood, his cutting knife chipping away, intent on his work. He respected the dwarf’s desire to focus on his craft, but it irked him nonetheless that Bofur wasn’t paying attention to him. But the moment Bofur would look up and meet his eyes, his smile would more than make up for it. 

It drove Kíli mad, this silent game. Anxiety then giddiness came over him in waves. He was filled with love listening to Bofur’s foolish jokes and basking in his bottomless optimism, but any thought of the ordeal they were to engage in would pop the bubble of content, and gloom and anxiety would settle in instead. 

It made matters worse that he himself was acting foolish, and it wasn’t always in ways which made him popular in the traveling party. After taunting the hobbit about night raids with orcs, he immediately regretted his foolishness after upsetting his uncle. And though Balin sought to comfort him, Kíli’s sense of guilt didn’t leave him. He admired Thorin deeply and didn’t wish for anything to get between them. The only comforting distraction he had that night was listening to Bofur chip away at the block of wood for the rest of that night. 

The following morning Thorin took Kíli aside, and before he could apologize, Thorin placed a small black box in his hand. The seal of Durin’s royal line was etched into the beautiful dark surface. 

“What is this?” Kíli asked. 

“The marriage-token to give to your husband,” Thorin said simply before leaving him. Kíli felt his heart crack from his uncle’s cold tone. 

“You all right there, laddie?” Bofur’s voice startled Kíli. He quickly pocketed the box and turned to Bofur. The dwarf offered him another one of his warm smiles, but his eyes searched his for any clues to how he was feeling. 

Kíli nodded while internally debating whether to give the token to him or not. “I am well, Master Bofur,” he said, rather coldly himself he thought. He quickly corrected himself. “I am well, honestly. Just…tired.” 

“There will be many mornings yet when we will awake tired,” Bofur said. “If you need to rest, my pony can take on another. I’ll hold you up so you don’t drop.” 

Kíli grinned at the mental image and nodded, and he silently wished Bofur would continue speaking with him, and indeed Bofur looked he was about to say something more, but he just nodded and indicated for them to join the others. “Just call for me if you need anything,” he said. 

“Yes, of course,” Kíli replied, hiding the small yearning for Bofur as best he could from his voice. 

To Kíli’s relief, Thorin was slowly warming up to him again, though he wondered how much of it was Bofur’s doing. The simple dwarf seemed to have taken a liking to sharing meals alongside Thorin and cracking up jokes till a tension seemed to, no matter how temporarily, have lifted off Thorin’s shoulders. 

“He’s a mighty tough one to lighten,” Bofur commented in a whisper to Kíli a few days later. They had just stopped for a rest and Gandalf had stormed off after a feud with their leader. 

“My uncle never forgave the elves,” Kíli said, “and not even Gandalf could convince him.” 

“It is understandable, of course, after what he’s been through,” Bofur said. 

Kíli nodded and made to leave, wishing to follow his uncle’s orders in effort to redeem himself, but Bofur called out to him. 

“I didn’t want to give this to you while it was raining,” Bofur said as he produced from his satchel a small object. He motioned for Kíli to extend out his hand, which Kíli complied. 

It was a small wooden figure of a dwarven warrior, and Kíli instantly became engrossed with the details. He had toys like these before when he was younger, though they were painted in brilliant beautiful colors that somehow never withered with time. But it mattered not that this doll had no colors, for he had never seen such an expertly crafted doll. Even the smallest dwarven child could hold this without fear of splinters (which Kíli unfortunately had from some lesser-quality dolls he so foolishly had bought one time when he was a small dwarfling.) 

It gave him a little pang in his heart when he realized all this time Bofur had been making the figure for him. 

“Thank you,” Kíli said. “But why?” 

“It is my marriage-token to you,” Bofur said happily, bowing slightly. “Just for now at least, until I can gift you with something more precious than a little doll.” 

“Oh, but this one is beautiful! I cannot ask for anything more!” 

But Bofur shook his head. “I would adorn this - and you - in gold for you, my prince. You deserve nothing but the best.” 

Kíli beamed. “Do you normally carry wood with you everywhere?” 

Bofur nodded. “A small amount. Just in case I need to make a toy for someone. Mostly children, or someone who’s captured my heart.” 

Kíli felt his face glow warmer, and he suddenly found it difficult to speak with Bofur then. He thanked him before rushing off to help Fíli with the ponies. But his mind could not leave the scene that had taken place, and distracted as he was he had completely forgotten about giving Bofur the wedding-token Thorin had given him. 

“You are oddly cheerful right now, considering we just lost our wizard,” Fíli said with a smile. Kíli told him of all that had just transpired, and by the end there was a mischievous glint in Fíli’s eyes. 

“And so the bond is soon upon you,” Fíli said with a nod of his head. “I wish you well and for not to be in any pain.” 

“Pain?” 

“Has no one told you?” Fíli said, his expression of one of utter disbelief. “The dwarven body undergoes…changes…during the union. His and your…you know…will grow, about triple the current size.” 

“It will?” Kíli said as he felt a cold dead weight settle in his stomach. 

Fíli nodded gravely. “I wouldn’t like to be in your position, brother.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well, you will have to be the one penetrated.” 

A long silence followed. “Penetrated? Where?” 

Fíli rolled his eyes. “Use your imagination, brother.” 

“And why does it have to be me?” 

“That is the custom. As the younger you will have to be marked by the elder. There will be a lot of blood.” 

“I don’t want to be marked!” Kíli said quickly as his mind offered him the most horrific images. I don’t want it to hurt! I never asked for this!” And on and on he went. But Fíli wasn’t listening, who was suddenly checking the ground while his shoulders quivered. 

“You are lying!” Kíli finally yelled out as it dawned on him. He chastised himself for falling victim to his brother’s prank, but in his humiliation anger also was born. He made to attack Fíli, and the two briefly wrestled until finally his brother pushed him back. 

“Wait, Kíli - how many ponies were there?”

* * *

Bofur wished to give Kíli as much time as he needed in getting used to their arranged bonding. He had utterly forgotten his deeds during Smaug’s attack. Such a simple act it was, saving Thorin; Bofur had spotted a dwarf in trouble, and he came to his aid. He never knew it was Thorin until afterwards. He was well aware of the custom, but the years had slipped the promise from his mind, and he was just as surprised as Kíli upon hearing the news, though he presumed he was taking things better than the younger dwarf.

He did not complain, of course. Kíli was rather handsome, Bofur thought, and possessed the sort of spirit Bofur personally cherished in friends. And Bofur had grown an affection for Kíli upon meeting him. “But you always have an affection towards everyone you meet,” Bofur reminded himself with a chuckle. 

But he was willing to let Kíli go if the other dwarf wished it, as much as he knew it would upset Thorin. Bofur supposed he cared enough for Kíli’s happiness to let the other dictate the direction their relationship would go. But Kíli had not shown any indication that he didn’t want to be with him. If anything, Bofur sensed him watching and at times looking like he wanted to speak with him. But nothing was certain for the longest while, and Bofur took the time to make a wedding token for Kíli, regardless if he chose to remain with him or not. He had, after all, grown fond of the dwarf after just one evening, and he felt a gift worthy of a young prince was much required from him. 

As Bofur helped with preparing the stew for the evening, he thought back to Kíli’s reaction to the token he gave him. He could not prevent the smile from showing as he helped Bombur. Seeing the light in Kíli’s eyes had brightened something inside Bofur in return, and he would have asked Kíli to remain beside him if the situation permitted. Bofur was certain Kíli had left with a definite spring in his steps. 

“Bless the energy of the youth,” Bofur thought as he scooped out the remaining stewing for Bombur. The others had eaten to their content, but Bofur was certain his brother was still hungry though he had snuck plenty of food for himself. “And bless the bottomless pit that is my brother!” 

“Kíli? Fíli?” someone yelled. 

Bofur stopped as the brothers suddenly appeared, both out of breath. Stew drenched the front of their jerkin and coat; from the empty bowls they carried Bofur deduced they had drowned as much as they could while running back here. 

Fíli ran past them to find Thorin. Other dwarves jumped to their feet to listen to what was happening, but Bombur and Bifur remained beside Bofur, for Kíli halted before them in that moment. Kíli’s wide eyes met Bofur’s. 

“What is happening?” Bofur asked. “Where is Bilbo?” 

“Trolls.” Kíli told Bofur everything as Fíli did the same with Thorin and the rest. Bombur took the last bowl from Bofur’s hands and gulped down as he listened to Kili’s fervent and rapid story. Bifur twitched, at any moment ready to charge into battle. 

“How could you let the ponies disappear by monstrous trolls when you were right beside them!” Thorin raged behind them. “You have fared better with more complicated tasks!” 

“We were distracted!” Fíli cried out, and in his tone it was clear he was hurt his uncle would question his ability to take on tasks. 

“Distracted? And what distracted you?” Bofur asked Kíli. 

Kíli hesitated. “I was thinking of you,” he said in a voice low, hoping it was enough for Bofur to hear, but by the sudden spluttering from Bombur it was obvious others had also heard. 

“Ai, you must have been distracted indeed!” Bofur said. “My token must have really -” Kíli flashed him a look. “Uum, well-” He nodded, his face darkening. Bofur took the cue to turn the discussion just as the other dwarves scattered to pick up their axes, swords, and spears. “Come on, lads - take your weapons!” 

He gave Kíli a slight disproving look as others passed them. “Please focus more,” he wished to say, but decided against it. It was he, after all, who had excited Kíli with just one gift, and he made a mental note to himself not to do anything like that when Kíli’s concentration was much required by the party. 

“I am a fool,” Kíli lamented. “The hobbit may be dead now thanks to me!” 

“You were distracted,” Bofur said. “You’ve learned from this and won’t do it again.” 

“Learn from it, yes, but I don’t want to live with the memory, especially if something happens to Bilbo!” 

Bofur placed a hand on Kíli’s shoulder. “Nothing will happen! Compose yourself, laddie! You cannot engage in battle if your thoughts are going in a hundred directions!” 

Kíli brought a hand over Bofur’s hand as he met his eyes. “It’s you. You distract me too much.” 

And he rushed off, leaving Bofur alone at the campsite.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this and given me feedback! :) I apologize it took me this amount of time to update. I have been steadily working on the story, though illness and some RL commitments held me back for a small bit. Also, the chapter got too long that I decided to split it up into two. :) The third and final chapter will be posted much sooner, since I have most of the words written already!

The company, led by Gandalf, made their way to what turned out to be the cave where the three monstrous trolls had dwelled. At first Kíli was not paying much attention, silently fuming at himself for the string of humiliations he had brought upon himself while held hostage. But Bofur, bouncing back to his normal disposition after a brief period of feeling queasy, had joked about the entire incident until everyone save for Thorin were laughing. 

“And how are you?” Kíli asked Bofur. “You did not seem well after we took you off the roasting spit.” 

“My stomach has settled,” Bofur said. “A strip of peppermint is all you need to calm the turbulent waves, if you know what I mean.” 

“Óin carries that?” 

Bofur laughed. “Óin carries everything! Smart one, he is! He’s brought all the herbs we could possibly need for this quest.” 

Their attention were soon turned to the contents of the cave. As Bofur, Nori, and Glóin busied themselves with gathering some of the gold and other treasures, Kíli simply browsed, studying the artifacts and treasures until the stench of the cave was too much for him. He did not wish to appear too interested in the treasures they just discovered, for Nori’s eyes were darting around, and Kíli was certain he had seen the sly dwarf steal a few things into his pocket that were meant to be in the treasure chest awaiting to be buried. 

Yet Kíli could not help but be fascinated by what he came across. There were golden pieces, disc-shaped though not meant to be taken as coins, with a dome-shaped center upon which a letter in the elven tongue were engraved. Many of these he gathered into a small pouch with as much stealth as he could. Other tiny trinkets were also added to the pouch before he located a place far from the eyes of others to bury. His treasures were perhaps small in comparison to what the other dwarves were gathering, but it was enough for him. The pieces with the elvish letters had especially interested him. 

When he was done he left the cave as soon as he could and took a deep breath with gratitude, thankful for a chance to leave the foul-stench of the cave. Almost instantly he became aware of Bifur calling him. He was mumbling something in the dwarven tongue while also signing for him to join him. Kíli had little chance to speak with Bifur since the evening in Bag End after the two had collaborated in cleaning up the plates. Kíli liked him enough, though his inability to communicate well made him nervous, if slightly. He understood everything Bifur spoke, but he was simply unsure how to respond whenever Bifur mumbled out words for a conversations that did not appear to exist. 

A small chest lay nestled beside a large rock near the cave’s entrance, and Bifur had settled himself neatly in front of it as he rummaged through its contents. Kíli peeked over his shoulder, and immediately his eyes fell on a shining golden goblet. But before Kíli could say anything, Bifur was pushing something against his hand. Kíli glanced down, realized it was a skull of some horned beast, and made to set it down before Bifur’s large hand fell over his. 

“Do you wish for me to keep this skull?” Kíli asked politely. 

Bifur nodded. “ _Gift_ ,” he mumbled in their tongue. “ _Marriage_.” 

“Oh, this is a gift for my marriage to your cousin?” Kíli said. 

“ _You_ ,” Bifur said, nodding. 

Kíli’s eyes went back to the rest of the contents in the chest. He did not feel it was polite to ask why his gift was a skull rather than one of the beautiful trinkets in the chest. But his acceptance of the gift brought a great smile to the other dwarf, and he motioned Kíli for a hug. 

“ _Azhkûr_.” Kíli thanked him sincerely, confused as he also was. “May I take a closer look at this goblet?” He pointed to the one that caught his eyes. The goblet was great in size for a dwarf, but Kíli thought it magnificent nonetheless. The golden gloss of the goblet had not lost its shine, and sapphires were embedded around the base. Words in an ancient Elvish tongue were engraved above the sapphires, circulating around where the stem began. Unbeknown to Kíli, he held one of the goblets used by the late high king of the Noldor Fingolfin, but Kíli would not have cared about the history of the goblet even if he knew. The object held a far different meaning to him. 

“ _I think I found a personal wedding-token to give to Bofur_ ,” Kíli thought, smiling.

He pocketed this along with Bifur’s gift just as a sharp cry alerted the company to stay put. And all thought of the skull escaped Kíli’s mind for the time being, and he was distracted by the meeting of a most unusual wizard. As they listened to Radagast’s tale, Kíli caught sight of Bofur, and he made his way to speak with the dwarf. He was hoping for some time to speak with him while Gandalf and Radagast conversed; Bofur had disappeared in the cave and they hadn’t seen each other since, and Kíli couldn’t wait to show him what he had found. 

“What have you got there?” Bofur said, pointing to the stuffed pockets of Kíli’s coat and satchel. “Enjoyed looting?” 

“Nothing escapes your notice,” Kíli said, laughing. “Yes, I did enjoy looting. And I see you were gathering a bit of treasure for yourself.” 

“Aye.” Bofur nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking rather pleased with himself. He gave Kíli a wink, which Bilbo suddenly took notice of. He was standing behind them and was now studying them quizzically. Kíli realized then that perhaps the hobbit wasn’t even aware of this peculiar arrangement which had taken place in his own abode. “I daresay later we can look through more to see what else we’d like to take with us, but I saved what seemed most fitting for our home after this quest.” 

Kíli made to respond, but then a terrible howl sounded which froze everyone on the spot. 

“Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?” Bilbo asked, looking up. 

“Wolves?” Bofur said as he took a few strides, listening closely. “No, that is no wolf!” 

In that moment a growl made them all jump, and Bofur spun around just as a massive warg appeared behind them. Kíli moved to attack, but all thought of flying an arrow left his mind at what he witnessed. The warg pounced, making for Bofur who stood transfixed. Kíli’s mouth turned dry, his heart stopping. 

But the warg flew over Bofur, and Dwalin bore down on it the moment it touched ground. But Kíli was not paying attention; his gaze was frozen on Bofur. In his eyes shone deep fear, which were then replaced with unbelief that he still lived. It had all happened so fast, and Kíli had not moved at all, paralyzed by the prospect of losing Bofur. Suddenly realizing he had been distracted again, he almost wished to hit himself.

“ _Bofur would have died had I not moved!_ ” he told himself. 

Another growl was heard right behind him, and he spun around in time to see another warg. This time Kíli fitted an arrow and sent it straight at the beast, which then Bofur ran and rammed his mattock into it to finish the beast off. 

“Are you all right?” he asked Bofur, who hadn’t stopped trembling. 

“As well as one could be when facing their death,” Bofur said, beaming at him. “But you were distracted again, Kíli.”

“I’m sorry,” Kíli said. “I thought you would be attacked.” _And I should have protected you_ , Kíli added in his mind as Gandalf and Radagast agreed upon a strategy. Bofur patted him on the back for comfort before following Gandalf. Kíli ran behind, trying to push the guilt and self-hatred from his mind. He had committed another mistake, but he would be damned before he allowed himself to make another. There was much at stake, and the image of the warg, its massive jaws just inches away from Bofur - Kíli shook the image out of his thoughts and continued running, his heart hammering in his chest. 

Thorin led them behind a massive rock, and they stood, waiting. Their noses picked up the stench of a warg with its rider approaching, stepping over the rock, so close to them. Thorin turned and gave Kíli a small nod. Understanding, Kíli jumped back and fitted an arrow into his bowstring. In that moment he caught sight of Bofur studying him while pressed against the rock for protection, but instead of distraction something else filled Kíli, a spark which enflamed throughout him; and he let the arrow fly, striking the warg first in its shoulder, crippling it. The next found its neck, and the fell beast toppled to the ground, flinging off the orc which rode it.

* * *

Despite the grumbling of the other dwarves, Bofur was all too relieved to enter the elven realm of Imladris. The thought of a calming warm bath was welcoming, and he took the first possible opportunity once they were shown to their rooms. The food was being prepared, they were told, so there was time to take a rest.

When he was done, he stepped back into their room to find Kíli sitting at a bench. He was studying the small toy figure he had given him. 

“The water is still warm, if you want to bathe,” Bofur offered. 

“Perhaps after we eat,” Kíli said as Bofur settled next to him. His hair fell over his face, but Bofur had the feeling Kíli had done this purposely as to watch him as he braided his hair. From his pile of clothes Bofur retrieved his hat, glad to get the cold off his hair. 

“You fought impressively back there,” Bofur said. “I see I am no longer a distraction to you.” 

“Nay, you are more my reason to focus,” Kíli said, though he did not add that the thought of witnessing Bofur get killed was too much to bear for him. Instead he cracked a wicked smile and added, “You were among the first to run into the cave!”

“Oi, don’t get cheeky with me, laddie!” Bofur gave Kíli a playful nudge. They chuckled before silence fell over them. Kíli was watching his hands, wringing them together. Just as Bofur was considering retrieving his pipe, Kíli spoke. 

“I think the meal is still being set, and,” he said in a sudden timid voice, “there is something I want to show you.” 

Bofur leaned back on the bench against the wall. “All right then.” 

Kíli wrapped the toy warrior in a small rag before settling it back into his satchel. A moment later he pulled out two objects then turned to face Bofur. 

“I want to give you the wedding-token from Thorin,” Kíli said. 

Bofur sat straighter. Kíli was watching him intently as he presented to him a small black box. The other object he held in his hand, hidden. 

“Oo, what is in here?” Bofur said, trying to lighten the mood after seeing how the other dwarf’s hands shook as he held onto the object. 

“I - I haven’t checked it yet.” In his embarrassment Kíli bit his lower lip. 

Bofur chuckled. “Silly thing,” he said. “And what if this turns out to be poison so your uncle would not have to live with the knowledge that a mere miner married his nephew?” 

It was Kíli’s turn to playfully nudge him. “Then he would have just dropped the marriage!” 

Grinning, Bofur turned to the black box. He studied the family’s seal on the front, and it suddenly hit him that he was truly one of Durin’s Line. He turned back to Kíli. “I take it you wish for our marriage to continue? You will not want to part after this quest?” 

Kíli nodded, his cheeks reddening despite himself. “I want to stay with you.” 

The lid of the box snapped open, and Bofur grew still at the sight before him. Was he truly this worthy of the gift before him? It was an _usekh_ collar, wide enough to cover his entire chest when worn. Gold and white-gold were clasped and woven intricately, and jewels were also interwoven in the colors of the royal line. And over the heart was a large amulet of such vibrance, perhaps second only to the Arkenstone itself. 

Kíli was inspecting it over his shoulder with as much stunned silence as Bofur over its sheer beauty. “This has been passed down ever since Durin himself, it is said,” Kíli said. “My mother and uncles each received these so they can give to their children’s spouse, should they go that route. I think Fann received one like this before we left, because Fíli and she had agreed to wed once we take back Erebor. I suppose this is Thorin’s then, because he never had children of his own. I never saw one upfront before.” 

“This is really happening then,” Bofur said under his breath. “I am part of Durin’s line.” He clasped the lid shut and took a deep breath. He suddenly felt light-headed at the reality of it for perhaps the first time. 

“Or perhaps I had just assumed Kíli would dissolve this union,” he thought to himself. He turned to his young husband, who was now studying the wrapped object in his hands. Kíli met his eyes and flushed. 

“This makes my own personal wedding-token rather an embarrassment to give to you.” 

Bofur chuckled. “After that wooden toy I gave you?” His smile disappeared as Kíli’s words sunk in. “You got me your own token? You need not do that. The amulet is enough. That is the custom.” 

“But I want to!” Kíli thrust the object in his hands for emphasis. 

Bofur unwrapped the gift and was again awed by the beauty in his hands. 

“This is lovely, and elvish, and you know what Thorin would say to that,” Bofur said, grinning. “I think this will be displayed atop our fireplace in Erebor, what do you say?” 

“Are you thinking of moving to Erebor?” Kíli asked. 

Bofur nodded. “I’ll have to,” he said. “I do not think a prince is fit for my home.” 

“I would not mind staying with your family!” 

“My brother Bombur, his twelve rowdy children and a megalomaniac wife, Bifur, and I in a two-bedroom apartment above Bombur’s restaurant,” Bofur said. “Would you care for such environment?” 

A shrug of Kíli’s shoulders. “And how is that different from our company right now? Oh, I wanted to ask you.” And he pulled another object which made Bofur give a start. 

“Bifur gave this to me,” Kíli said, showing him 

“Bifur did?” Bofur gave a great howl. “He is fantastic, that lad.” 

“But, why?” 

“He found it beautiful.” 

“It’s a skull!” 

“And it belonged to someone’s head once,” Bofur said. “See? This is how we look underneath all that skin and muscle. Do you not find that fascinating?” 

As Kíli studied the skull, trying to decide what his final verdict was on it, Bofur learned closer. “It’ll make a wonderful centerpiece as well, with a few flowers in the sockets to bring out the color of our room.” 

Before Kíli could respond, Glóin entered the room. “Come, you will be late,” he said gruffly. Though hungry as he surely had to be, he was still unpleased at the prospect of eating from the elves. Bofur thanked him, but did not move until he was out of earshot. 

“Let’s put these far from any’s gaze,” Bofur whispered in Kíli’s ear. Kíli helped Bofur roll up their gifts, including the skull, and found a spot under a low table covered by a long tablecloth. As they made certain it was far from view, Kíli could not resist stealing a kiss. He had never done this before, and the kiss was very light on Bofur’s cheek, but Bofur smiled and returned it with a soft kiss on his lips. 

“Now where would you like to sit?” Bofur asked as they stood up. He did not wish to assume Kíli would sit by him, as he wanted to give the other as much freedom as he required. But he realized his mistake as Kíli’s shoulders slumped at his question. 

“I would like to dine with you, if that is all right,” Kíli said. 

Bofur smiled. “I would love it, of course. Come on then, laddie-love.” He extended out a hand in invitation, which Kíli quickly took.

* * *

Fíli and Thorin were seated far from them and at a small table reserved for themselves, Gandalf, and Lord Elrond, and Kíli imagined this was for business as well as a show of respect to Thorin and Fíli’s ranks. As they passed by, Thorin took notice of Kíli with Bofur and nodded, indicating for him to remain with his husband, and the two decided to settle themselves near the edge of a table far from Lord Elrond.

Bifur sat next to Kíli, and Kíli took the time to thank him again for the gift, which Bifur only shook his head and patted Kíli’s knee. Kíli had seen the way Bifur fought, and it amazed him that a dwarf who could become so terrifying in battle could be so gentle and soft. Despite a vague fear of riling up Bifur’s maniacal side, Kíli was warming to him as much as he already adored Bombur. 

While still speaking with Bifur, Kíli noticed that Fíli was watching them. Though older by only five years, a number insignificant to the race of dwarves, Kíli always sensed there was a much more mature soul in his brother compared to himself. Even sitting there with Gandalf and Thorin and their elven host he seemed like a king fit to rule, and a more worthy king than Kíli could imagine himself to be. Nonetheless, at that moment Fíli was giving him a most mischievous smirk, decidedly not mature at all, and Kíli was reminded of his taunting the other day. He shot Fíli a playful dirty look before turning back to Bifur. 

Sitting at their table were also Bombur, Óin, Dwalin, and Nori. Kíli tried to hold back his laughter at the scene the dwarves were making shamelessly before the elves: Dwalin’s outcry over the lack of meat, Óin stuffing his ear trumpet to shut out the atrocious music playing, and Bifur neglecting everything on the table save for the little yellow flowers the elves had in the centerpiece vase. Though their hosts kept their mouths shut over their behavior, Kíli noticed a few muscles twitching near their lips. Bombur was appreciative of whatever lay before him; breads, vegetables, and sweets - he ate it all with no complaint, though it drove the elves frantic rushing to replace their plates with more food each time they passed by. Bofur and Kíli themselves shared in Bombur’s enthusiasm, preferring to eat their fill before having to face again countless days of plain soup by a campfire. 

The meal was strange and unfamiliar to what Kíli was used to. It felt too light, as though he needed to raid the entire kitchen in order to satiate himself, and Kíli wondered how he could ever get full. But to his surprise, he was finding himself feeling sleepy from the meal, though it wasn’t accompanied by the usual heaviness in his stomach which he was accustomed to. 

His only complaint was the bitter lack of drink. No beer they served but a strange golden wine that from the taste he guessed was made from honey and some sort of vine not used in most wines. It was too sweet to his liking, but as there was little drink given he gulped it down, though it instantly made him yearn for more. Yet the elves were unwilling to refill his goblet. After some time he felt Bofur pushing his own goblet towards him. 

He glanced down to see Bofur hand-gesturing to him in _iglishmêk_ , “ _Take_.” Kíli gave him a gesture of thanks before taking, gulping the drink gleefully in front of the same elf who refused to refill his goblet. 

For the remainder of the meal Kíli listened closely to Bombur and Bifur (when he did speak), wishing to acquaint himself as much as he could with the family that had now become his. Bombur, very content with the food he was eating, was in pleasant mood and willing to share stories with Kíli tales of his and Bofur’s childhood, of his wife and twelve children, and the tale of Bifur’s injury. But no tales were spoken of their parents, and when Kíli went to ask, he felt Bofur squeeze his knee; glancing at Bofur, he noted a small look of plea, and Kíli nodded, keeping silent. 

Bofur’s hands gestured quickly over Kíli’s knee so Bombur wouldn’t see, “ _Father died, mines. Mother, Aunt, Uncle died, illness. Same time. We_ very _young._ (And here he placed particular stress on the _very_.) _Poverty, till older, jobs. Bifur young too, but raised us_.” 

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Kíli gestured back, and he gripped Bofur’s hand, giving him a squeeze. 

“It was a long time ago,” Bofur said softly in his ear. “It’s fine.”

As Bombur continued with tales of some of the more amusing costumers to his restaurant, Bofur and Kíli continued a silent conversation in the dwarven gesture language. Kíli was thankful for it, to be allowed chance to learn more about his husband in the open privacy of the dinner. 

But at times signing together proved to be an amusing feat. While the spoken language of the dwarves had not changed since their awakening, _iglishmêk_ had changed enough that dialects between the dwarves of Erebor and the Blue Mountain could produce different meanings. Though Kíli knew both, he always seemed to get confused and sign for something in his family’s own dialect rather than Bofur’s language, which oftentimes conveyed a sentence he never expected. 

“You mean me to eat a scorpion off Smaug’s back?” Bofur asked at one point, amusement thick in his voice, after one mistake. Kíli nearly snorted out his drink (finally refilled), and after struggling several more times was finally able to recall the appropriate gestures. 

When the meal was done and all the dwarves finally ate their fill, which left many an elf weary from the amount of errands they needed to run to the kitchens, the dwarves broke into smaller groups. Balin and Bilbo went with Thorin, who was called to follow Lord Elrond and Gandalf into another meeting. Glóin, Dori, and Ori were interested in taking a visit into the library to see what they could learn. Fíli made a beeline to Kíli. 

“I see things are developing between you two,” he said when he knew none would overhear them. 

“I gave him the wedding-token from Thorin,” Kíli said. “It’s the same as what you gave Fann. And one of my own tokens I gave him.” Fíli raised his eyebrows. “Oh, and Bifur…” And he told Fíli the tale of the skull, which amused his brother greatly as they made their way back to the sleeping quarters. Kíli wished to show Fíli the skull itself, but before he could reach where Bofur and he had hid their belongings Dwalin appeared. He requested for Fíli, and Fíli gave him an apologetic look before leaving. 

Kíli was only slightly hurt that his presence was not needed, eager as he was to be included in any important task. Sensing his displeasure, Fíli ran back just to promise him that a summary of all that was discussed will be given to him to look over. 

“I think you are needed elsewhere for now,” he said, offering his brother a smile before rushing back to Dwalin. 

Kíli saw no other place he was needed, but he decided on a bathe then, as it was close to his sleeping quarters. Fetching his and Bofur’s satchels, he went to the bathing room. The sun sunk over the horizon in the west as he soaked in the warm pool, allowing his muscles and mind to rest. He remembered Fíli’s taunting again, and though embarrassed at the thought of being discovered, he took extra care in washing himself. Just in case. He was certain he could hear Bofur playing his dwarf-flute just outside. 

Dried and dressed in undergarments, Kíli stepped out and was greeted by Bofur’s lovely music. He was sitting on the ground a few feet away from the entrance to the bathing chamber. 

“You were in a long while,” Bofur said good-naturedly. “I was worried you fell asleep, and would have went to check on you had I not heard you splashing about.” 

“I decided I deserved a little extra break,” Kíli said, thanking Mahal in his heart that Bofur had not stepped inside. He set their satchels on the ground and settled himself beside Bofur. 

“Good for you to have them within sight in there,” Bofur said, indicating to their belongings. Kíli settled his head on Bofur’s shoulder, wishing for a private moment for them, but their moment together was soon interrupted. The last of the daylight was gone, and dwarves were filing into the sleeping quarters. Fíli had stopped by, and as promised gave Kíli a summary of his meeting with Dwalin. But Fíli was not to sleep here. Kíli had a choice to join him at the sleeping quarters where Bilbo, Balin, Óin, Glóin, and Thorin were staying. But both felt it best for Kíli to remain with Bofur. 

“Have fun with these misfits,” Fíli said. 

“They are my sort,” Kíli said, grinning. 

“A lovely match Thorin made, then!” And laughing, Fíli ran off again. After playfully cussing at him in their native tongue, Kíli settled himself at the only bed. It was of elvish make, and a rather peculiar design. It was better suited as a sofa, Kíli thought; though he fit comfortably in it, he wondered how the taller race could sleep on one. 

Kíli was initially embarrassed at being given the only bed, but due to his status and importance in the group sleeping in the quarters that night, none argued save for Nori, though he just hesitated before agreeing. Kíli settled himself, his and Bofur’s belongings tucked next to him. Bofur was rummaging through his own knapsack as Kíli was lighting his pipe. 

“Where have you been keeping that?” Kíli demanded when Bofur pulled out a thick stack of sausages. 

“I caught Nori trying to steal these from the hobbit’s house,” Bofur said happily. “I’ve been using a small amount with our stew, but saving the rest for a special occasion. Oi there, stop Ori before he gets too far!” 

It turned out that Nori had also nicked a few plates and food items from the kitchens on their way to the sleeping quarters: sweets, a few greens for Bifur, and plenty of ale which kept Dwalin glad the rest of the evening. Ori, who was assigned another sleeping quarter with Dori, was pleased to see that there was still meat, and they set up a fire using whatever furniture they deemed appropriate for the task. 

“Think they will not mind us decimating their tables and chairs like this?” Dori asked them as politely as he could, though from his tone of voice it was clear he did not approve in the least (and neither did he approve of Nori stealing from the kitchens.) 

“If you can find us a nice kiln we can hoist in here, that would be nice,” Bofur replied. 

After Bofur filled a plate of sausages just for Ori, Dori led him as far from the sleeping quarters as he could. 

“He wishes us to not taint his brother further!” Bombur called out, and the others joined with him in laughter. 

Kíli tried to focus on Fíli’s summary, but the dwarves were becoming too rowdy, and often he was distracted to enjoy whatever mischief they were up to. He knew he was being irresponsible, but he could not miss a chance to bond with the others, most of whom were now his family through his bond with Bofur.


	3. Chapter 3

The night wore on until every dwarf save for Bofur and Kíli had gone to sleep. The plates were cleared, all the food eaten; and as Bofur cleaned up the other dwarves were tucked under the large blankets and well rested atop the makeshift beds the elves had given them. The smoke from Kíli’s pipe faded along with the last of the flames of the campfire. After making certain that the wood of the campfire was put out, Bofur looked up and met Kíli’s eyes. With a shy smile, Kíli indicated to a spot next to him on the bed. 

“Appears we are the only ones awake,” Bofur said. “Oi, are you still reading your brother’s summary?” 

“And miss out on you lot making fools of yourselves?” Kíli grinned, enjoying the jab that Bofur gave him. 

“You. Enough pipe-smoke and dillydally. Either finish reading or -”

“I will read it in the morrow,” Kíli said, tucking the summary under the bed. He should have felt bad for his negligence, but he could not leave his gaze off the dwarves’ outrageous behavior. But there was another reason which drove his mind far from any serious talk of strategy and regaining Erebor, and somehow he knew Bofur sensed it as well. 

“All right. You rest for now,” Bofur said. “I’ll let myself be a distraction for one more day.” He gave Kíli a wink and leaned back on the wall; Kíli crawled closer until he was resting his head on Bofur’s shoulder. He brought his arms around Bofur shyly as his husband returned the embrace; Kíli was suddenly conscious that he was touching the last remaining layer of clothing that Bofur wore. All dwarves slept with such long undergarments, though Kíli wore an undershirt over his. It still made him blush to see the flap over Bofur’s crotch, and he tried to avoid staring at that region.

Instead he glanced up as Bofur looked down, and moving closer they shared a kiss. Soft it first was, as tentative as the first had been before their dinner with Lord Elrond, but it lingered until the two moved away. 

“It is so strange to want this,” Kíli said. “Tell me before this journey began that I would find love in the one who my uncle wed me to, and I would have scoffed and laughed! But now…I think I have something I never knew I wanted before.” 

Bofur grinned. “Strange how it all works out in the end.” 

“Did you wish for love?” 

Bofur considered the question seriously. “Never thought of it before, so I suppose I was like you in that I never wished for it. Our kind seldom do. Your brother and mine both are rather odd in that they sought love, and rarer still that they found one to love them in return!” 

“Why is that so? Why do many of us never think of love?” 

“Consider it a flaw in Mahal’s design, if you are to think our design compared to that of elves and men to be strange. We were made to find the earth and all it contains more fascinating than anything else in existence: more than the stars or trees which the elves cherish nor to the romantic love which the race of men sing many songs of. 

“But we are not a loveless race. Our family ties are strong, perhaps stronger than that of any elven or mannish family. And what wrong is it in that? We have an unshakable foundation they could only wish to share. And our marriage bonds only serve to strength the bond of family. And sometimes that love which they sing of happens to us.” 

Kíli nodded his head, understanding. One arm wrapped over his body and the other hand roaming free, Bofur caressed Kíli’s cheek, his fingers trailing along his jawline before coming to his chin and tickling him, eliciting a light laugh from his young husband. 

“Is there love inside you then? For me?” 

“Of course, Kíli,” Bofur said softly, looking at him with a tender look. “Of course I see the grand beauty of loving another though I may not have never seen it before. But perhaps I may have not have understood before now. I always saw beauty in only what can be created from the earth, but are we not the also creations of that which we labor so tenderly?” 

Kíli’s heart squeezed at Bofur’s words as a warmth filled him. Hearing it from Bofur, it now made sense to him how this emotion could arise. 

“ _A beautiful earthly creation Bofur is!_ ,” Kíli thought. And in his smile was his all he needed to let Bofur know that he understood. Giving Kíli a tender smile, Bofur bent his head forward to kiss him, letting their lips touch for several moments longer before breaking apart again. But Kíli moved to kiss him again, letting himself get used to feeling himself pressed against Bofur. They stayed in this manner until they both grew comfortable with their kisses. 

Then breaking away, Kíli took Bofur’s hand in his, and looking up rather shyly, he said in a timid voice, “Can we? I want to...” 

Bofur nodded. “So our bonding will be sealed.” 

“But I…” Kíli gave a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know what I need to do.” 

“It’s fine,” Bofur said soothingly. “Just let your body move at its own pace. Let it be natural for you. Here…touch me, just to get used to it. Don’t be shy.” He rested against one side of the bed, positioning himself so that Kíli had access to every part of him. He first held onto Bofur’s shoulders, just getting used to the idea of touching another as he had while they kissed, before letting his fingers tentatively trail down the length of Bofur’s body. He was too nervous to deepen his touch, and his heart pounded in his throat. What part could he touch? What would be too daring, and what could make Bofur despise him? What limits had he over his husband’s body? Kíli wondered this and froze, suddenly too nervous to touch Bofur again. 

There was also a small matter which resulted from their kisses; it had stirred a change in Bofur, and Kíli could not keep his eyes off the flap of his husband’s undergarment. He could feel his own cock hardening, and what a strange and wonderful and horrifying sensation it was at once. 

Kíli’s eyes darted back to the sleeping dwarves. “Is it all right for us to do this so close to them?” 

“And what of it?” Bofur said, chuckling. “They’re only sleeping. No amount of noise can waken this drunken lot. Of course, if you want, we can make a blanket fort.”

“But it will look suspicious!” 

Bofur laughed. “And? Those who know of our bond are expecting us to be breaking any beds we lay on together! And I daresay this bed is quite a bit musical!” To demonstrate he gave an aggressive shake to the bed, eliciting a squeak and grown from the wood beneath them. 

Kíli blanched at the words and the sound the bed made, but he said nothing more. Bofur patted him on the arm. “Here. Help me stack these pillows. We’ll build a wall.” 

Bofur retrieved his own bedspread. They moved as quietly as they could, though being dwarves it could have woken any light sleeper. But their companions were in deep slumber, and none stirred as Bofur and Kíli resettled themselves on the bed, both glad of their achievement. 

Though he should have been glad at the added privacy, Kíli found it now too restrictive, or perhaps it was his own fright at the prospect of what they were about to do. He wanted it certainly, but he also becoming painfully aware of how little he understood of this ritual. 

Bofur was studying him, his dark eyes twinkling. “Kíli, it is fine. It is the most natural thing.” He kissed Kíli, gently deepening it until he felt Kíli relax again, falling into the sensation again. 

“Undress me. Don’t be shy, beloved. One button at a time.” 

The first to go was the hat, for Kíli did not want it messed by their activity. Though he loved it on him, he also loved seeing the thick mane of tangled hair underneath it. Shaking fingers went to Bofur’s collar, and he unbuttoned the first button with much difficulty. As he did this Bofur encouraged him softly. He held Kíli close, with one arm while his free hand threaded through Kíli’s hair, or drew comforting circles on his back. As Kíli exposed one button over Bofur’s chest, his curiosity drew him to touch the skin there, running his fingers over flesh, a hardened nipple, and dark curls. Bofur kissed his neck as he untied the string of Kíli’s undershirt, then gently tucking until enough skin was exposed for him to explore with his mouth. Kíli fell into giggles. 

“Is my mustache distracting you, laddie-love?” Bofur asked as he brought his hand under Kíli’s shirt and tickled him further. Before Kíli could respond, he slide in Bofur’s arms and accidentally rubbed himself against Bofur; a wonderful sensation came from this, and Kíli froze to savor the sensation. Bofur held him still, watching to see what was the matter. Kíli was tempted to rub himself again, wanting more of that good feeling to come to him, but he resisted. After the wave washed over Kíli turned to Bofur with a timid smile. He loosened Bofur’s scarf and tossed it towards his hat. 

“Keep going,” Kíli’s begged, and they resumed their act. More of Bofur’s skin Kíli exposed with each button, and he took the time to roam his hands over, tracing the curves and hair on his husband’s body, and showering him with caresses and kisses as Bofur did the same to him. He was reaching the very last button, and his eyes fell again at the flap, and his heart leapt to his throat again. 

“Beautiful how our bodies change, doesn’t it, Kíli?” Bofur said softly in his ear. 

“Does it grow any more than this?” he asked. 

“Do I not please you?” 

“No, it is not that! I…I was just worried you will keep getting bigger and -”

“Bless me, laddie! There needs to be a limit! We’re not trying to massacre each other!” 

Kíli laughed and buried his head in the crook between Bofur’s shoulder and neck. He allowed Bofur to slip off his pants, and soon following it was his undershirt. After Bofur helped him out, Kíli returned the favor, finally exposing the rest of Bofur to himself. He lay back on the bed, eyeing Bofur’s cock with fascination. He had bathed before other dwarves before, but had never seen any penis erect. He was unsure what he thought of it, or why he was even finding it this alluring. A cool draft of air reminded him of just how much they were fully exposed to one another, vulnerable to each other, and espying the thin layer of clear fluid at the tip of Bofur’s cock did not help matters. Kíli’s own cock twitched, and he covered himself with one hand. 

“Leave it, it does that,” Bofur said, chuckling. 

Kíli was about to oblige but he decided to keep his hand there. His other hand joined, and Kíli fought the urge to rub himself despite the intense pleasure he was getting from his own touch. “No. You will have to retrieve your gift.” 

“Ah, so that is what you want?” Bofur pounced, and the two play-wrestled until Bofur had Kíli pinned on the bed. He forced Kíli’s hands away, and gave a small moan of delight at his victory. Kíli squirmed under Bofur’s gaze. 

“You are beautiful,” Bofur said earnestly, and with one finger he traced the center of Kíli’s body from the middle of his neck down to the base of his cock. Around his fingers explored, watching Kíli’s reaction closely. The touch was cool against his hot skin, and each caress of the thumb or fingers on him drew out a moan that he tried to keep from becoming too loud. The entire experience of it all was wonderful, seeing Bofur tending to him with much care, watching him, his eyes twinkling and his smile beautiful. 

He suddenly sunk down and kissed Kíli’s stomach, tickling him again. As Kíli fought to keep his laughter down, a stranger feeling came as something wet against his cock. He looked down, seeing Bofur’s tongue lap at his cock and then noticing that Kíli was watching, give him a kiss near the base. Whimpered, Kíli thrust his hips in need for more of his mouth. Bofur tongue lapped along the length before coming to the tip, where he then wrapped around it with his lips. 

Kíli’s hips bucked instantly, but Bofur held him back with his hands before taking more of Kíli into his mouth. Then noticing Kíli’s worried expression, Bofur pulled out. 

“Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to continue?” 

“Yes,” Kíli said after a while, “but what about your pleasure?” 

“Your pleasure is my main concern right now, love,” Bofur said. “Relax.” He took him in again just as one hand travelled up to caress Kíli’s abdomen. Kíli brought one hand over Bofur’s hand, letting himself surrender to the agonizingly sweet torment. His other hand gripped the bedsheets, or Bofur’s hair, or dug into his own side as the pleasure mounted in his body till he was nearly blinded by its intensity. He began whimpering Bofur’s name, and that was when he felt Bofur pull out again. Bofur did nothing else, just allowing Kíli, panting and still squirming, to regain composure. 

“Why did you stop?” Kíli asked. 

“I don’t want you to finish this soon,” Bofur said. They brought their lips together, their kiss lingering and deepening until Kíli’s body ached for touch again. He could feel Bofur’s cock on his thigh, and shyly he brought his hand down to touch it. Bofur’s hand closed over his, helping him explore and touch. 

He felt something wet filling his hand, and Kíli brought his hand up to study the fluid from his husband. He attempted a taste, looking into Bofur’s eyes as he did so. 

“What do you think?” Bofur asked. 

“Not too bad, but not wonderful,” Kíli said honestly which brought about another chuckle from his husband. Bofur wrapped one arm around Kili and pressed him close while his other hand, also smeared with his essence, traveled down Kíli’s back. 

“Ready?” 

Kíli tensed but nodded. “ _This is it_ ,” he thought. He was uncertain how to feel about this part, for the thought of pain had terrified him. But so far there was only pleasure unlike anything he had felt, and he was eager for more. 

But Bofur felt him tense, and he guided Kíli to lie down on his stomach and with his legs apart. Kisses were spread to the back of Kíli’s neck and shoulders and down his back as gentle hands massaged him till each muscle relaxed. Kíli closed his eyes to feel each touch, smiling to himself at feeling Bofur tending to him with so much love. He was reminded of watching jewelers tending to their craft, their hands both delicate and tender and loving, and he beamed to himself. Bofur’s caresses made him feel like this. 

Bofur carried on a whispered conversation as his hands traveled to Kíli’s buttocks, drawing circles as he neared closer to Kíli’s entrance. There was a pause before Kíli felt something wet enter him. 

The sensation was odd, but not from pain. He followed Bofur’s instructions and allowed himself to be entered. The finger lingered inside him as his body adjusted before pulling out again. He kept this while whispering words to keep Kíli calm, but in time he crawled back till he was at eye level with Kíli. Kíli shifted around so he was on his side, wishing to embrace Bofur. Bofur hesitated, perhaps thinking this would bring Kíli pain, but he allowed it. 

“I missed you,” Kíli said teasingly as he kissed Bofur and reached out to play with one of his now disheveled braids. “How long does this take?” 

“As long as it takes so it is enjoyable for you,” Bofur said before pausing. “Unless of course you wish for some pain?” 

“No,” Kíli said, thinking. “I don’t know if I will enjoy it. I don’t know what it is I want, really.” 

“I understand.” Bofur kissed his temple. “That’s part of the joy of intimacy, eh?Learning more of yourself and your lover.” 

Kíli smiled and nuzzled against Bofur with one leg straddled over Bofur’s thigh. He brought their cocks together and gripped them both with one hand. His strokes sent thrills down his spine and also Bofur’s from the way he moaned and thrust into Kíli’s hand. As Bofur continued to prepare him, he spoke softly, exchanging conversation about nothing at all as they just relished in being so close together. 

It was becoming easier to take in more, as well as get more enjoyment, with each entrance for Kíli. He helped also with the preparation; when he saw Bofur raise his hand to coat it with more of his saliva, Kíli offered his mouth. 

When Bofur suddenly moved, Kíli chuckled a little at the sensation of how well coated his entrance felt. He looked up at Bofur as he rolled to his back, both eager and dreading the moment, but Bofur guided him back on his stomach. 

“Sorry, laddie,” Bofur said, “I won’t risk any pain.” 

“I want to see you,” Kíli said. 

“In time you will.” 

He was instructed to raise his hips just enough to allow Bofur entrance, but without Bofur to hold onto Kíli’s heart quickened at what was to come, and he gripped the pillow instead. But Bofur was extremely gentle, letting his cock in slowly and moving further in only as Kíli’s body accommodated him. Soon he was inside Kíli. 

“All right there, Kíli?” 

“Yes,” came Kíli’s small voice. There wasn’t any pain, but Bofur’s cock certainly did feel much bigger than before. But it wasn’t a dreadful feeling either. Rather there was a joy in being so filled and knowing it was Bofur who was inside him. He felt Bofur pull out before sliding back in. He moved slowly, letting Kíli get accustomed to his size inside. Then one particular thrust brought out a loud pleasurable gasp from Kíli. 

Bofur grinned. “Let’s see if I can achieve that again.” He thrust a few more times, and a couple of times brushing against the same area area inside Kíli which brought him great pleasure. 

“Please Bofur, I want to see you,” Kíli said, looking over his shoulder. He was awarded with a kiss as Bofur pulled out of him. 

“Turn around then, laddie,” Bofur said. He helped to position him, spreading his legs apart while making certain Kíli was comfortable. As he resumed his thrusts, Kíli rested back, looking up at his husband with a smile. He hoped more of that pleasure would come from this angle, but he was uncertain. As Bofur slide deeper into him, his body lowered till he was resting atop Kíli. Kíli wrapped his arms around him possessively just as Bofur brought one hand to Kíli’s cock. 

The thrusts were long and slow at first, to the liking of both. They studied one another, at times whispering in each other’s ears, just enjoying the sensations and closeness. On this went, the pace steadily quickening until Kíli asked him to stop. 

“The bed is making too much noise like a dozen mice!” Kíli said. “I hadn’t realized until now how fragile their furniture is. We’ll surely break this.” 

“And do you want to?” Bofur asked, offering him a wicked grin which Kíli could not resist returning. His mind thought of the arrogant elves who had regarded them with thinly veiled sneers. 

“Yes, love,” Kíli said, pulling Bofur close to kiss him. “I want to see their faces in the morning when they discover our damage.” 

“Assuming we are not sent away early before them come looking for us. Then they will be left wondering what went on here.” But that just amused them further. 

Bofur still had not resumed, taking his time to instead lazily stroke Kíli’s hair while his other hand caresses his husband’s cheek. Kíli shifted slightly and shuddered. 

“I didn’t expect so much pleasure from this,” he said. “I thought I would be screaming in pain.” 

“Well, you may be a little sore by the morning.” 

“And to think we may be called out to leave tomorrow!” 

“You can take you revenge on me later,” Bofur said. “I am certain there will be plenty of other times, behind the odd rock or something!” 

The thought delighted him, and Kíli kissed Bofur. “Enough. More! Help me break this bed!” 

“Oi, you boss around your elder?” Bofur winked at him as he lifted Kíli’s leg and resumed his thrusts. 

“You forget I am a prince!” Kíli stuck his tongue out at him then thrust his hips to meet Bofur’s. 

“And what does that make me?” They slipped into a faster rhythm. 

Before Kíli could respond, he gasped out again as the pleasure intensified inside. Bofur was hitting the sweet spot repeatedly, and with Bofur stroking him all Kíli could do was was grab hold of his shoulders and beg for more as his rocked his hips to meet with Bofur. Bofur’s preparation had loosened him enough to accept more, and he was begging for harder and faster thrusts. No longer minding the possibility of some pain the following morning, Kíli craved this exquisite torture. 

Soon they were lost in their passion, and all thought of keeping quiet left their minds. But of course the dwarves still slept, though perhaps there may have been an elf or two who heard them that night. The bed creaked madly underneath them, but none paid attention to its groans threatening destruction. If anything, it seemed to drive them to go faster and rougher. Then one particular thrust shook the bed enough that its legs cracked under the pressure, and down the two went. Instantly, Bofur’s hand was beneath Kíli’s head to protect him from the impact, but he was too slow in stopping himself from sliding deeper into Kíli. But Kíli cried out not in pain but in pleasure. 

“Oh that one did it!” Bofur blurted. 

“Did you mean me or the bed?” Kíli asked, and the two laughed together. Kíli pulled Bofur for a deep kiss, encouraging him to resume. He was pressed closer to him, riding him fast as one of Kíli’s hands gripped his shoulder, the other roaming down his back, grasping a buttock. He could feel his husband trembling in his arms, then suddenly the shudders increased before Bofur froze on top of him, gasping out Kíli’s name. Kíli watched his husband with fascination as he went through his orgasm, unable to hold back a few giggles at the changes that took place before his eyes. 

Bofur lowered himself, panting. 

“You’ve outlasted me,” he said with a hint of disbelief. 

Kíli swept aside a strand of hair from Bofur’s temple, wiping at the sweat. “Because you’re old,” he said teasingly. 

“Oi!” His hand left Kíli’s cock and gave him a playful slap on his side. He resumed his thrusts, as much as his tiring body could, while his hand traveled back to stroking Kíli. He brought his focus on pleasuring Kíli completely, moving at the pace that sent Kíli over the edge. Kíli felt the same pleasure from before, same as when Bofur had taken him in his mouth, and he gasped out Bofur’s name repeatedly as the intensity became near blinding once more. He felt something stir deep in his belly, and suddenly he was shuddering underneath Bofur. He was riding on waves crashing and he knew nothing but the pleasure rushing through him. 

As his climax subdued he leaned back, spent. Bofur kissed his neck before pulling out. Kíli only gave a tiny disappointed moan, already missing the feeling of being filled by his husband. 

“We are wed for good now,” Bofur said, smiling. 

Kíli grinned. “I’m glad. I’m tired, Bofur. And I’m cold.” 

Bofur pulled down the blanket from their makeshift wall, shaking out as much of the wooden debris as he could. Kíli watched him lazily, so satisfied and spent as he was from their lovemaking. How silly it was for him to worry over this, he thought, though he also did not forget Bofur’s warning. But he didn’t want to think about the morning. He studied around himself to further survey the damage they had done to the elven bed. 

“Can’t guarantee there won’t be any splinters here,” Bofur said. He wrapped the blanket around them both before snuggling close to Kíli. Kíli pressed himself for as much warmth as Bofur could offer him. He leaned close to Bofur’s ear and whispered a word which made Bofur’s eyes widen. 

“It’s my inner name, my true name,” Kíli said to Bofur’s unspoken question. 

“You give me your inner name this freely?” Bofur said softly, disbelieving. A dwarf’s inner name were seldom ever revealed, nor ever transcribed over their tombs, for in it was where their soul was believed to be contained. 

“We are wed, are we not? Can we not also share our souls?” 

“Oi, you are falling hard!” Bofur chuckled, but he did the same to Kíli, whispering his own inner name in a voice so soft that only Kíli could hear. 

Kíli gave a low gasp. “I love your true name, husband!” 

“But don’t go around uttering it, especially if we do _this_ again during the journey,” Bofur warned with a wink. Blushing, Kíli grinned. In retrospect perhaps he was a tad too loud, especially now that he realized how silent the world was around him. 

“Our fellow companions will get quite an eyeful, if they did not get an earful,” Kíli said, attempting a chuckle to hide his embarrassment. 

“I reckon a few elves may have heard, if it is true that their hearing is as sharp as I have been told,” Bofur said. 

Kíli gave a soft yawn. “I wonder if they heard the bed breaking. I am going to be in so much trouble tomorrow.” 

But he did not mind the thought of the elves or even their own companions finding them like this, entwined among bedsheets and splinters, for he was too proud of what he now possessed. The thought of the treasures he would inherit upon regaining Erebor suddenly seemed very trivial, for he felt he had gained something far more worthy of any gold. He had to thank Thorin. He was right about Bofur and him as a match. 

Kíli kissed Bofur’s neck and rested his head on Bofur’s chest. He closed his eyes as his mind drifted to dreams of the future. A large golden goblet with sapphires was set above a fireplace, and near it a skull with small golden and violet flowers places in the sockets. Their new home in Erebor, far more splendid than the tales could ever tell, and Bofur adorned in the golden collar and beaming as he and Kíli admired their new home together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say again thank you very much to everyone who left feedback - all of your comments warmed my heart, and I hope the rest of this story was to your liking! :) Although this is the final installment for this story, this is neither the last Bofur/Kíli fic that I plan to write nor the last story in this 'verse. I do plan on writing more, and I may have something posted tomorrow, though I warn from now the stories taking place after this may not be happy since I plan on keeping this canon-compliant. 
> 
> But thank you again to everyone! :) Love you all!


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